Hanna
by Kelpie66
Summary: After moving from Germany to Paris, Hanna undeliberately gets involved with the Basterds... 'Well', he said, putting his hands on his hips 'We got rid of that jew-killin' motherfucker and in the progress, got us a little something we've wanted for a really long time - a pretty, little aryan decoy.'
1. Chapter 1

Hanna Schulz caused her family lots of worries. She surely could have already married a distinguished man, such as an SS Officer, with her peerless beauty.

Her pale skin looked like polishedmarble, her lips always seemed to be covered in a light layer of honey, and her eyes, oh my. They were greenish-blue and sparkled like the way the ocean does when the sun hits it just fromt the right angle.

The reason 19-year-old Hanna was the problem child in the family was that she had a mind of her own.

The only thing she ever said about these accusations herself was one day, when she was poking in her mashed potatoes, and muttered 'I hate being told what to do' without looking up. That was when she had to join the 'Hitler youh'.

One morning, she came into the kitchen looking changed.

'Hanna, what have you done to your hair!', her mother shouted.

Her ivory blonde hair, that once almost reached her butt, was now shoulder length.

'I wanted to do this for a really long time, _Mama_!', she insisted.

'But don't you know that long hair attracts men?'

Hanna huffed, ridiculing her mom's statement. 'It only attracted food when I was eating. Why does it bother you, anyway? It's my hair!'

'Don't listen to her', said her father, peeking over the newspaper 'This attitude is the reason your mom ended up with someone like me.'

Hannas mom clicked her tongue offendedly and slapped him with a towel. Though she couldn't help but smile about his joke.

And her father smiled back at her in such a gentle manner that anyone could tell he meant to say 'I love you'. It sounds cheesy, but through all their everyday struggles, they were still in love.

He tilted his gentle smile toward his daughter and said 'I like your new hairstyle'.

'Thank you.', Hanna answered.

'So you wanna be a hairdresser now or what?', asked her mom.

'No!', Hanna defended herself, as if her mom just indirectly accused her of having an inconsistent mind. 'I still want to be a photographer.'

'You know we can't afford a camera.', her mom said.

Hanna lowered her head, she knew she was right.

'Well', said her father, 'We'll see about that.'

The bright smile that arose on Hanna's face made him smile aswell.

'Hanna', he said, 'I'm gonna let you know about your Christmas present earlier this year, because it needs some preparation. You'll be going to a photography internship in Paris!'

'Rolf, why didn't you tell me about this?', her mother shouted; but Hanna already flung her arms around his neck, thanking him.

Hanna was packing in her room when there was a knock on the door. It was her father, Rolf. He slowly came walking in, with his hands in his pockets.

'Are you happy?', he asked.

'Yes, very.', Hanna said, smiling calmly.

'That's good.' He sat down on her bed, watching her pack for a moment.

'You know', he continued, 'I didn't just do this for the sake of your career.'

Hanna looked up at him, becoming clairaudient.

'I also wanted you to learn to become more responsible and find out what you really want. Meet some new people. You won't be able to get away from the Nazis, though, I fear.'

'I know.'

'But I also did it for your mom. She has to learn to let go. You're nineteen. You're not going to stay with us forever.'

Her parents bid Hanna farewell at the train station, that was covered in snow, which was untypical for December. Usually, it didn't snow until the end of january.

'Do you have the paper that has René DuPuis' address on it?' asked Rolf.

'Of course! Why would I forget the most important thing?'

Rolf pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket. 'Because,'. he said, holding it up in front of her 'You're really forgetful.'

Hanna was a bit embarassed that she actually forgot it, but also grateful that her father was that aware of her weakness. Now she knew what he meant when he said she had to learn to become more responsible; and it worried her a bit.

Wrapped up in a coat and a wooly scarf, she slept through most of the ride. She didn't even notice the Nazis searching the train before they could cross the border. Only one time a train conductor woke her up to check her ticket, and then again to remind her of getting off the train. Little, clumsy Hanna, how are you going to handle living all by yourself?

The short and bulky photographer René DuPuis didn't exactly greet her heartily in his little studio in the streets of Paris; and Hanna was really awkward, especially when she was speaking french.

He gave her a short tour of the studio, with all the cameras and lighting equipment and the dark room. Seeing all of this really excited her.

She would start working the next morning and had a little room for herself. It was bleak and only had a bed and a chest of drawers, aswell as one green plant. For some reason, she felt more welcomed by the plant than by René.

'Today,' said René with a full mouth at the breakfast table the next morning 'I want to get an impression of your sense in scene and atmosphere.'

They sat counterpart at the ends of a long, wooden table. René DuPuis usually lived alone, and you could feel that somehow.

He took a sip of his coffee. 'After breakfast, you're going to go out and take some pictures. While we're preparing and eating lunch, the pictures are going to develop and then afterwards, we can have a look at them and I'll tell you what I think. What do you say?'

Hanna's jaw dropped. She didn't expect that she would already take pictures herself on the first day.

For the first time, René smiled and revealed a row of crooked teeth. 'Did you think you were only going to watch me and get me coffee? I want you to learn something here.'

And to be honest, that's all she could ask for. Maybe she was wrong and René was actually going to be a great mentor that gave her just enough freedom.

He showed her how to handle a Krauss Rollette camera and she went out taking pictures for hours of Paris and its people and it was the most fun she had in a long time.

When René looked at her pictures, he furrowed his brow and didn't say much, although Hanna expected and hoped for lots of constructive criticism. He sometimes asked where she took a certain picture, without movin his gaze from it, and then made a some sort of sound when she told him.

She wasn't sure what to think of that.

The next days, he sometimes had her assist him, then go take some pictures herself and she also learned how to develop photos. Of course, the days didn't go by without some mishaps. She exposed a couple of films and spilled chemicals in the dark room, which made him huff angrily, but not really complain.

René didn't say a lot in general.

One day, during their lunch break, there was a heavy knock on the front door of the studio.

'We're closed!', René yelled from the back room.

An authorical voice yelled back in German: '_Öffnen Sie sofort die Tür, Herr DuPuis! _(Open the door right now, Mr. Dupuis)'

René suddenly stopped chewing his baguette and looked at Hanna, frightened.

'Your acquainances?' he asked.

Hanna shook her head.

René walked to the front door to see Major Hellstrom fake-grinning at him from outside the glass door. He opened, and the major started talking to him in French: 'Hello, Sir, do you have some time to talk?'

'About what?', René asked curiously.

'I heard you recently had someone move into your house?!'

'Someone else lives here, yes. Her name is Hanna.'

'Who exactly is Anna?' asked Major Hellstrom, misinterpreting his French accent.

'She does an internship here. On photography.'

'You didn't register any roommates, Monsieur DuPuis, why is that?', he said seriously.

René blurted out a short laugh.

'She's not my roommate. She just sleeps here for a while, due to her internship, that is all.'

'Anyone who lives with you, Monsieur DuPuis, must be registered. Are you hiding anyone else?'

'No.' he said confused.

'May I convince myself of that?' asked Major Hellstrom, and without waiting for an answer, he walked into his studio, looking around curiously at the photo prints on the wall.

He walked slowly, with his hands behind his back. His every step could be heard clearly, even in the backroom, where Hanna was.

'Nice photographies.' he said.

'Thank you.'

'Is this Anna you were talking about here today?'

'Yes.'

'Then go take her.'

'Yes.'

René was about to go to the back room to take Hanna, but she was already coming out.

'Is anything wrong?', she asked.

Apparently, Major Hellstrom was really enchanted to see this pretty girl.

'Not at all', he said, took her hand and kissed it. 'I must have been deceived. I heard Monsier DuPuis was illegally hiding people. But I guess you're just aquaintances, right?'

Both, René and Hanna nodded.

'However, may I see your papers?'

'Of course', she said and went to take them.

The two men were now alone.

'You look a bit jewish, Monsieur DuPuis.' said the major, looking down upon the short Frenchman. 'Are you?'

'Me? Of course not!', he said and seemed to get a bit nervous.

Hanna came back with her papers and Major Hellstrom took a look at it. 'Hanna Schulz', he said, mostly to himself, and started reading. After inspecting the papers for a while, he read: 'Catholic Christian.' and added 'Wonderful.'

'Well', he said 'I guess my business is finished here. Thank you for your time.'

And with that, he left.

A few days later, Hanna looked at one of Renés photos and tried to impress him by interpreting it. René hushed her right away. 'Listen', he said 'I consider photography a form of art and interpreting it on an antiseptic level excludes the essence of art, which is personal emotions and thoughts. Of course, everybody is allowed to withdraw something from a picture for themselves, based on their own struggles, but never try to universalize the meaning of a photograph.'

Hanna aggreed submissively.

'One more thing', he said, raising his forefinger, 'Don't let anyone tell you your photographs aren't art. It's art if you want it to be.'

During breakfast the next morning, she told him that he became her idol and she wanted to be just like him. She expected him to be flattered, but he stayed serious. He stood up, poured a cup of coffee and made it the way he usually did - 2 tea spoons of sugar and a bit of cream. 'Well, if you want to be just like me you can start today. You have to do everything the way I do it. Eat exactly what I eat. Drink your coffee the way I drink it.'. He pushed the cup over to her. 'And don't try explaining things in English when you don't know the French word. Only speak French. _Pas d'anglais_. (No English)' He looked her in the eyes, she seemed confused.

For a moment, they stayed silent.

'Hanna', he finally said, 'please don't try to be a second best version of someone else. You're wonderful, and a really talented photographer, so be the best Hanna Schulz you can be, _d'accord_? (okay?)'. Hanna smiled. 'D'accord.'

Hanna couldn't figure out if what happened a few days later should have been foreseeable for her, or if it was even her fault.  
Nazis used to hang people in the cities and keep them there for a couple of days, to demonstrate what happened to jews or anyone who rebeled against them.

One day, Hanna fought herself through a crowd of people and saw what everybody was staring at - there have been lynchings and three men, one of them being René, were the victims; his dead body was hanging livelessly in the middle of the streets of Paris.

She collapsed onto her knees and held her shaking hand in front of her mouth to stop herself from bursting out a cry. She wanted to run over to him and cut him off the rope, to at least give him the honor of not being stared at by all these people. Some of them, the Nazis, even cheered. These assholes found out he was a jew and killed him.

René would be hanging there for up to a week and there was nothing she could do about it.

Her first intention was to go back home, but she couldn't.

Hanna had to immerse somewhere in France. She felt pangs of remorse. If she hadn't moved into his house, they wouldn't have searched it and they hadn't found out he was a jew; however they did that. Not even she knew. Maybe they killed him for no reason at all.

Hanna was furious and devastated, she aimlessly ran through the forest, with less than half of her luggage. She had to get away, although she knew getting to a different place wouldn't change the situation.


	2. Chapter 2

Hanna found a job as a waitress in a tavern. Her heart still ached when she thought about René and how she couldnt answer her parents' letters; and being around drunk and horny men every night didn't exactly lift her spirit.

However, there were very few customers that day, which was relaxing on the one hand but also gave her time to think about the things that happened, which she tried to avoid.

Her boss, a German, made a habit of fondling her all the time and she was too afraid to effectively dismiss him.

This one night, she heard someone slowly coming down the corkscrew stairs next to her. It was a tall man with a mustache. He took off his irish flat cap and pushed back his greasy brown hair, nodding at Hanna to greet her. She shyly nodded back.

The man was followed by another one, who had jet black hair and thick eyebrows. He was broad-shouldered and looked quite intimidating. He didn't moved his gaze from her eyes, even when he was already past her.

'Customers!', shouted her boss. 'Hanna, go get them some beer.'

Hanna went behind the counter to draw the strangers two glasses of beer.

'What brings you guys here?', her boss asked, who was also standing behind the counter.

They didn't answer, as if they didn't even understand what he said.

Again, Hanna found the dark-haired man staring at her and was completely captivated for a second and thus, didnt hit the glass with the beer coming out of the dispensing head.

The man with the mustache smirked, leant onto the counter and moved his face closer to her boss'. Surprisingly, he started speaking English, with a strong, southern accent:

'Listen, Kraut, I want you to stay calm and do what I say.'

He revealed a handgun from behind the counter, pointing it on him, while making sure no one in the bar noticed what was going on.

Hanna raised her hands in surrender as if it was a reflex.

The man with the mustache hissed 'Stop that, don't attarct any attention.'

For some reason, she looked at the dark-haired man as if to ask for permission or just solely what to do and he gave her an approving look, so she lowered her hands.

'Please, I don't want any problems', said Hanna's boss with a horrible german accent.

'Well, me neither', answered the man with the mustache, 'That's why I want you to leave this tavern with me and-'

'Can't we handle this in here?', he interrupted, smiling nervously.

Hanna saw that her boss tried to slowly reach for a gun, that was lying behind the counter.

The American's eyes tilted down on the gun for just a split second.

Her boss didn't notice that and kept moving his hand toward it while saying things that had no real content.

It suddenly occured to Hanna that she'd rather have her pervert of a boss die than these two men she didn't even know. Since he wasn't even looking where his hand was going, she inconspiciously reached for the gun from behind him and took it. Both of the Americans' glances swept over to Hanna. Holding the gun close to her chest, she took a few steps back. Her boss' hands started fumbling around on the counter, not finding the weapon.

The Americans took advantage of the situation - the man with the mustache backed away and the dark-haired man took out a bat from behind his back and, with a suddenly furious look on his face, hit the side of her boss' head. Blood splattered, the side of his head hit the rounded edge of the counter ,and then his forehead hit the counter in front of him. He fell to the ground.

* * *

They took Hanna with them without really explaining why. She wanted to ask them why they killed her boss but as always, she was too afraid to open her mouth.

Donny, as she found out the dark-haired man was called, pushed the end of his bat into her back to lead her through the woods.

They didn't talk until they reached a camp of khaki-colored tents, and there were cheers and whistles of the men scattered around the extinguished fire and the tents.

'Whose present is that, Donowitz? Providing us with some pussy?'

'Shut up, Hirschberg!', said Aldo, the man with the mustache, who seemed to be their leader.

He took off his holster and threw it next to a tent. 'Well', he said, putting his hands on his hips 'We got rid of that jew-killin' motherfucker and in the progress, got us a little something we've wanted for a really long time - a pretty, little aryan decoy.'

'I'm not aryan.', Hanna protested, rather contained, 'My eyes are green.'

'Shut your mouth, blondie, they're blue.', responded Aldo. 'Are yer not proud to be an aryan? Treated like a goddess in kraut-land Germany?!'. She didn't respond.

Hanna found out that her boss killed jews and got paid for it from the Nazis. That's why the Basterds, the guerilla army, killed him.

One of the Basterds, Wicki, spoke German and he seemed really nice and not like a killing monster. He started talking to Hanna; and at first, it was just smalltalk. He asked her if she was okay or if Aldo and Donny hurt her. She said they were nice, which Wicki apparently didn't believe - he responded with a smirk.

Hanna asked him about the Basterds' reaction when she arrived at the camp, which made him chuckle.

'It was a long way into Nazi-occupied France', he said. 'We had to avoid civilization in order to stay unseen. These men haven't seen a woman in weeks, that's why.'

This explenation didn't really seem legitimate to Hanna.

'Some of them have never seen a German girl', Wicki said 'and they said they were surprised how pretty they are.'

He was really amused about her confusion regarding that topic.

'Blondie, come over here!', Aldo shouted to her from the fire place and sniffed some tobacco.

Fear spread inside Hanna; she had no idea what to expect. It felt weird thinking that she helped him kill someone. As Hanna hesitated, Aldo glanced over at her again and Wicki pushed her to go to him.

So she stood up and walked across the camp, to the fireplace.

'Look at those legs!', one of the Basterds shouted.

'Where? Everyone has legs.', Hanna said, as if talking to herself, staring at the ground.

Apparently, they heard that, since some of them started laughing.

Hanna sat down in front of Aldo.

'May I assume you know who we are?', Aldo asked, as he tilted his head down and glanced up at her.

'You're the Basterds', said Hanna, matter-of-factly.

'Seems like Wicki already told you a little something about us?!'

'I've heard of you. But I didn't know if you were real.'

'Well, now we're right here in front of you, made of flesh and blood. I'm Aldo Raine, you can call me Aldo, or Sir. What's your name?'

'Hanna.'

'Hanna', he repeated, 'Nice to meet you.'

Aldo held out his big hand and she shook it hesitantly.

'Listen, Hanna, I'll introduce you to the other Basterds later, but let me first ask you a question... Why did you help us back there in the tavern?'

He looked her into the eyes, curiously waiting for an answer, but Hanna didn't even really know the answer herself, so she started stuttering.

'Can I ask you something first?', she asked.

Aldo leant back, as if to demonstrate he was ready for all kinds of questions. 'Go right ahead', he said.

'Why did you beat this man with a club instead of shooting him?'

Aldo chuckled. 'Well, I have to let Donny let out his steam, or else he'll go mad. He owes me one hundret nazi scalps. It's one less now. Besides, I didn't even have a fucking bullet in that gun.'

Hanna simply nodded, without really understanding.

'So?' - Aldo waited for her to answer his question from before.

'I don't know.', was all she could say.

Aldo inhaled. 'Alright. Just so you know, you'll be living with us for a while. I'm sure you'll be really helpful. But before we go killin' more of your kind with...', he started searching for a handkerchief in his pocket, 'your help', he emphasized, 'I have another task for you. Do you know how to cook?'

Although she didn't have much to work with, Hanna managed to cook a pretty decent bean stew in a metal pot on a fire.

The smell of the food made the Basterds gather around.

'What'cha got there?', asked Aldo, sniffing tobacco again. He seemed to be pretty addicted to that stuff. 'Bohneneintopf?', she said, or rather asked, addressing Wicki, because she didn't know what the word in English was.

'Bean stew', he translated. 'Better than nothing.', said Aldo.

Hanna filled a porringer for everyone. When it was Donny's turn, he looked into the pot sternly, then at Hanna. She filled his porringer and he was the only one who said 'Thank you', though he said it kind of absently.

They garged the stew as if they were starving and some of them soon asked for a second portion, except for Donny. Once he was done eating, he walked away without saying anything and went into his tent. Aldo watched him curiously.

The Basterds talked and laughed until late at night and when Aldo noticed Hanna yawning he asked if she was tired. He told her to go sleep in Donny's tent.

'Are you sure?, Hanna asked. 'Sure I'm sure. Unless you wanna sleep outside. Donny's tent is big enough and I told him not to kill you, so you shouldn't worry too much.'

So she went into Donny's tent. He looked at her up and down, bewildered. 'What?', he asked.

'Aldo told me to sleep here.'. He cleared his throat and then nodded hesitantly.

Hanna sat down on the mat, that was spread on the ground. Donny threw a pillow over to her. And then they just laid down, trying to sleep. Neither of them could. For some reason, Hanna started thinking about how Wicki told her how the Basterds said they were surprised how pretty German girls were and wondered if Donny was the one who said it.


	3. Chapter 3

Hanna woke up alone. She wrapped the thin, white sheet around her shoulders before leaving the tent. To her surprise, there was only one Basterd - Utivich. He stared at her timidly.

'Where is everyone?', asked Hanna. Utivich cleared his throat, then said:'They're getting food and... some other things.'. Hanna nodded.

They sat silently, until Utivich suddenly looked at her from the side and asked:'Aldo told me what happened in that tavern. Is it true that you helped them to kill that man?'. Hanna didn't want to talk about it again. Without looking at him, she said:'Yea, indirectly.'; 'Why'd you do it?'. Hanna shrugged. 'There has to be a reason', Utivich said, trying to sound friendly. 'I don't know why I did it, I kind of regret it...', she said. 'Because you spat in your own bowl?'. 'No, it's not like I was on his side or anything. He was a pervert and a killer.' 'See, no reason to feel bad about it.' - Utivich just tried to console her, but Hanna almost got offended. 'Is that your mentality? Killing is wrong, so you should kill them?'. 'Well', Utivich started stuttering 'there's not really another way to stop the Nazis, is there?'. 'It's not that simple. Are you sure all the people you killed have been guilty?' - Hanna was getting pretty mad. Utivich stared at her with big, frightened eyes:'We're ordered to kill everyone wearing a Nazi uniform.' 'A Nazi uniform doesn't make you a Nazi, just like owning a bible doesn't make you a Christian. Some people are being forced to wear that uniform, or else they'll get killed. But if they do wear it, you kill them and they might not even be a convinced Nazi! We all have to pretend in order to stay alive. But sometimes it's like there's no rights and wrongs, there's only wrongs.'. Utivich suddenly looked at something behind her. Hanna turned around - the Basterds were standing there, armed and with bags full of supply. 'Hi there', said Aldo.

To flee from this awkward situation, Hanna went into the tent, while the men were sharing out the food, ammunition etc. She somehow felt exposed, though she didn't know how much they heard of what she said.  
As soon as Aldo was alone, she went up to him to ask him what she had to do in order to be released. Aldo said that Hans Landa, the Jew Hunter, would be coming to town soon and she had to lure him into a trap. 'Could you be more specific?', asked Hanna, determined. 'There is no 'more specific'. We don't have a plan yet. We don't even know when exactly the Jew Hunter's gonna get here', said Aldo. 'Don't be so pushy, blondie.'

Later that day, the Lieutenant and Donny sat together in a tent.

'Hanna seemed... really upset.', Donny said, although it didn't match the topic. Aldo looked at him, as if interpreting that statement. 'She sure did.', he finally said.

'I don't think it's healthy when she feels that uncomfortable in her situation, you know. I mean, she won't be helpful. Maybe we should talk to her.', said Donny.

'But not you.'

'Why not?'

'Didn't you listen to her? She thinks we're animals for killing people. Germans, to be exact. She thinks you're pure scum, a dirty jew. In her eyes, the Germans are completely innocent,probably because she doesn't see what's bad about killing jews. She would never listen to you, Donny. There's no other way than to force her to do what we need her to do.'

Donny moved his lips, as if he was about to say something, but then stopped.

Obviously, Aldo twisted Hanna's words. But he noticed that Donny was really different since he met Hanna, and he had to avoid him from getting attached to her. He needed him to be the blood-thirsty bear jew and not fall in love with a German girl. And it apparently worked. The next day, they captured some German soldiers and Donny beat one of them to death with his bat, more aggressively than ever. He kept battering him like one possessed when the man was already dead. Then he shouted:'Teddy fuckin' Williams knocks it out of the park! Fenway Park on its feet for Teddy fuckin' Ballgame! He went yardo on that one, out to fuckin' Lansdowne Street!'

He seemed like the scariest, strongest man in the world but if Hanna knew how he felt and why he did all of this, she could tear this facade down with just one look. One word from her and he would never be able to kill anyone again.


	4. Chapter 4

One morning, Donny entered the tent while Hanna was brushing her hair (using Donny's comb, because that's all she had) and he dropped a big sack in front of her. ''Hans Landa is in town. I want you to wash these and then meet Aldo and me to make a plan.'', he said demandingly. Hanna looked into the sack. ''Are you kidding? You want me to clean your underwear? ''.  
''Order from the lieutenant.'' He paused. ''And stop using my comb, would you?''  
''Am I supposed to run around with a bird nest on my head?''  
''Aw, stop being ridiculous, this is not a fucking beauty contest. Now get your ass outta this tent. It's still mine.''  
Hanna didn't get why Donny was suddenly so mean to her. He was always a little weird, but not like this.

When Hanna was submissively washing the Basterd's underwear at a near-by creek, Donny watched her from afar, cutting something into his bat with a knife. From time to time, he looked up, but he couldn't take it. He did feel bad for her. And not only that, he felt an intense feeling of pain when he thought about how he could never have her. Yet, for a moment, when he looked at this innocent being, he thought that evrything the lieutenant said about her was a lie.  
He finally gathered the courage to walk up to her. He stood behind her and looked seven feet tall next to this fragile woman sitting on the ground. She ignored him. ''Hanna.'', he said. She realized this was the first time she heard him say her name; and for the first time, she actually liked hearing it. Although she couldn't interpret from the tone of his voice if she was in trouble or if he was sorry. Or maybe both. ''I'm busy cleaning your underwear.'', she said sarcasticly. ''Hanna, look at me.'', Donny said, more assertively. She didn't react. Donny grabbed her shoulder and spun her around, not really considering how light she was, and therefore almost throwing her to the ground. Hanna gave off a short sound of pain. She turned her face away from him. ''Look at me!'', he said. She did, and he looked sort of frightend for some reason. ''What's wrong with me? Am I really worth less than other people?''. ''What are you talking about?'' ''Dont gimme that, I heard what you said back there at the camp, Kraut.'' ''What did I say?''. He squated down in front of her and grabbed her chin. ''You make me mad'', he said, almost whispering, ''I hope we finish this thing with Landa as soon as possible so I never have to see you and your face again.'' He gently stroked her cheek with his thumb. Her face squinched up and she started crying, not exactly knowing why. Maybe simply out of confusion. He said all these mean things to her but at the same time he was so affectionate. She covered her face with her hands and Donny lightly pressed her against him.


End file.
